S m a l l
by LeadHeart787
Summary: My brain outlined the object. It started to become familiar. No. Feet striding faster, eyes unblinking, it slowly became clearer. ...No. Pace slowing, still many feet from it, my brain did the work. It put together the pieces. My eyes refused to believe what lay in front of me this very evening. ...NO.
1. Preview

_(Greetings all! This is my first submission to this site; I hope that my first contribution is worth a read! Cheers to any new friendly faces eager to help a casual writer on her way.~)_

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><p><em>Imagination.<em>

What does it mean to us?

To be able to see, feel, think and create things- real or fake, good or evil.

As kids, we loved that kind of stuff. We relied on things like the tooth fairy and Santa Claus to make wishes and believe the unseen.

To believe...

That's where everything moulds itself right there. _Belief._

Knowing we can believe in things- even if they are not real- really dives us deeper into childhood's innocence.

This, of course, included our own fantasies of our favourite things actually coming to life- being presented to us- in the flesh.  
>Books, movies, TV shows, video-games; we all have admittedly awaited a pokemon to appear in our backyard, or get a letter from Hogwarts, or get thrown into the world of Disney and My Little Pony.<p>

Of course, these silly fantasies eventually end. All things have to end someday- but never the memory. We will still look back at it and laugh; whether it be from embarrassment, stupidity, or joy.  
>We will always dream about such things, but we all know they will never happen.<p>

So...

_Imagination._

What does it mean now?

Much more.

Please, mark my words, do not- EVER- stop believing.

...because right when we think something will never happen,  
>it will.<p>

...

_And you won't be ready._


	2. Prologue I

[ l]  
>Fan-fiction<br>First-person limited  
>Mixed Media<br>First Draft

Prologue Part 1

C. Hopwood

This fan fiction was birthed from a dream and may appear surreal, unusual or nonsensical at many given points.  
>The views presented by the author's personification do not strictly represent the views that of the author herself. She does not own the rights to any video-game characters, deviants, or various media presented in this piece unless stated otherwise.<p>

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><p>I don't know where to start with this.<p>

Everything just seemed to happen without reality's consent.

Who was to think I wasn't going to make mistakes?

Heck, I'm probably just going to keep rambling. Let me start by saying... it was a regular afternoon. Yeah. Sometime after work, August 19th of 20██, 6pm. I was dropped off at home by a family friend, who doesn't seem very relevant to mention, as everything was a blur to me that day.  
>Now let's get more specific...<p>

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><p>My hands stuck with the common odour of iron and copper, icky from an overuse of hand sanitizer and grime from dealing with customers. I always dared not to touch anything when I got home- drop all my bags, run to the nearest sink, and rub my fricken' hand prints off with the satisfying feel of water and soap. Funfunfun, daily doings, roll of the eyes. Nothing ever new.<p>

Rinsing my hands one more time, my feet took me inevitably to the landing- upstairs. I wiped my hands on my shirt, not bothering with the consequences. It was a Friday; I had worked an 8-hour shift, and GODDOIHATETHEM. For the least part, it was the end of the day; and as a plus, the end of the week. No more work.  
>No more work.<br>The house seemed stale this evening; I was, yet again, the only one home. Heck knows where my mom went- and my sister was most likely working until 12 again. A great coincidence it was that I was to retreat to the warmest room in the house in the middle of summer. Wanna guess? My room.

I gave a generous nudge with my shoulder and yanked my whole body into the room past the door, and strategically fell onto my bed. Given there wasn't much walking space to begin with, I render that my messy floors didn't ever matter.  
>Either way, peace at last.<br>I rolled over, gaze blinking at the blank ceiling above. I slipped my dirty shirt over my head and threw it into the abyss that doubled as my floor, and just blubbered my lips.  
><em>Guess I'll just chat with them all night,<em> I rehearsed in my head, as I did every day.  
>Rolling my body over the bed's edge and pushing up with my legs, I slid onto my desk chair, slipping my thumb into the power button on my computer.<br>I sighed, then waited.  
>Stale, stale, <em>stale.<em>

I needed to look for something to set my focus on. The DeviantArt group was going fine, mingling and roleplaying, with me watching in the high chair. Of course, my friends always sat up there with me. I loved it, sometimes hated it, and mostly loathed the possibility of them finding me greedy for it. They kick me down from that sulk-corner every time.  
>Grateful? I sure am. But I still shudder at the fear.<p>

Animal Crossing? Sonic? Kirby? Star Trek? Mass Effect?

Ugh.

It's been a week or so since I've gotten off of my Pikmin bandwagon. I somehow got a huge dose of it and lived off of it for what seemed like months, fangasming over everything from spoilers to easter eggs in the games.  
>Then, just like that, it died.<br>Don'tknowwhy.

Gotta love friends- even if they are thousands of miles away.  
>Hey, they tried. I honestly did get some thoughts after the suggestions.<p>

But... stale. STALE WAS THE NIGHT. I leaned back in my chair whining to myself that I'd get nothing done; so was the productive ways of the Caitlin!

I decided not to dwell on it. After a long chat with my lover and my bro, time climbed up to the darkened hours around 9pm. The sun was setting- but I never bothered to go and see it. My skin was probably just as pale as my motivation that day, face slumping in an exhausted mess.

With a groan, I leaned back in my red IKEA chair, probably expiring by the second. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything at that point.

Peace at last?

I should have never thought of such a stupid thing.

...

...  
>...<p>FWOOM

The sound was quick, sudden, but incredibly loud and close. I felt my desk lift from my knees hitting it so hard in surprise. Various pieces of junk and ornaments flew about and rolled off in my impulse.  
>"FU-" many cursewords followed, both in fear of what that rushing sound was and the amount of dust and wires I had to dig through underneath my desk to get the fallen items. Having gathered an arm full, I simply scattered them all over my bedsheets and bolted out of my room, trampling downstairs in a hurry.<br>_Someone letting off FIREWORKS? Someone's RC copter on the loose? Fuck sakes-_ my mind raced faster than my feet, but they sure did track the noise. I rounded my staircase in a sharp turn towards the downward staircase, daring to let my arm swing open the back door.

...

...

CRACKLE

Little time to react- a huge flash temporarily blinding my hasty vision- I yelped in confusion and fear.  
>My arm swung in front of my eyes; I couldn't see or hear a thing.<br>Run? Hide? Stay? Fight? Flee?  
>Stunned, my quickly halted frame stumbled about, one foot making it out the door. My fingers parted from in front of my eyes to daringly see if the bright light had faded- and it surely did, seconds before.<br>My breath grew fast and unstable, and I tried to calm myself, but my ears still conked out. Just HOW LOUD was that goddamn boom? How CLOSE was I to it?

The answer was in front of me- 15 FEET FROM ME.  
>I felt my body swivel and I quickly balanced myself, ripping my arm from my face now that the supposed danger ended. My eyes could barely make out what it was- it was small, we'll go with that- planted firmly into the soil, and burnt to a crisp.<br>My baby tree supposedly took half the hit, as leaves were scattered about, and yet tiny pieces of the object still seemed to be raining from the sky.

My eyes still stung- they were wide open at this point. Questions clouded my judgement and I seemed too scared to react- but still started walking towards the crashed object anyhow. FOR GOD'S SAKES-

My brain outlined the object. It started to become familiar.  
><em>No.<em>  
>Feet striding faster, eyes unblinking, it slowly became clearer.<br>_...No._  
>Pace slowing, still many feet from it, my brain did the work.<br>It put together the pieces.  
>My eyes refused to believe what lay in front of me this very evening.<br>_...NO._

...

...

The S.S. Dolphin, CAPTAIN OLIMAR'S BELOVED SHIP,  
>FROM MY FAVOURITE ALL-TIME GAME, PIKMIN-<p>

Lay real, in the flesh, in my backyard, battered-  
><em>destroyed.<em>

_...__**oh GOD NO.**__  
><em> 

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><p><em><em>

_continue?_


	3. Prologue II

Thank you all so far for the follows and reviews! Being new to this site, it encourages me to publish more of this partially complete story and continue onward. Thanks again~

*** DUE TO LACK OF FORMATTING IN THIS SITE, LINKS BELOW ARE PROVIDED TO THE PICTURES ORIGINALLY IN THE SCRIPT. To read the properly formatted version of this Part, see my profile.

Whenever an ASTERISK is present, an image is to be inserted. Feel free to go to the said link to see the image originally inserted. Open up another tab to my profile to see the pictures correctly and accurately!**

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><p>[ L]<br>Fan-fiction  
>First-person limited<br>Mixed Media  
>First Draft<p>

Prologue Part 2

C. Hopwood

This fan fiction was birthed from a dream and may appear surreal, unusual or nonsensical at many given points.  
>The views presented by the author's personification do not strictly represent the views that of the author herself. She does not own the rights to any video-game characters, deviants, or various media presented in this piece unless stated otherwise.<p>

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><p>In this point in time I seriously didn't know how to act. Every fangirl has asked themselves-<br>at least once in their obsessive lives-  
>"WHAT IF THESE THINGS WERE REAL AND SHIT?"<br>And they'd daydream for hours on end about what they would do first, what devious and evil things they would do to their beloved characters, torture them-

Is it a girl thing? God so help me, every thought about such a thing, every comic I've written or fiction I've read on the net I regretted the moment I saw what was in front of me that evening.

Because you never realize how horrible those kinds of things can be unless you see it for yourself.  
>So was I, experiencing this very thing, stunned.<p>

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><p>My breath was taken from me. The stiff air and cold breeze seemed to steal it when I needed it.<br>Eyes still peeled open and burning, they jittered from fear. They flicked about the crash site; nothing really seemed to have an impact except for a tiny foot-wide crater of dirt around the Dolphin.

My mind ran over the many questions again-  
>Flee?<br>Get help?  
>Faint from surprise? NO- nonono- that would waste time. LOTS of time- and having no idea on how much time I had at this point, I needed a straight answer with my actions.<p>

I was going to scream- but my jaw hung without any sound.  
>My ears still rung with a high pitch, but they were slowly clearing up.<p>

In my idleness, I couldn't help but notice something moving-

_...Ohmygod._

I seemed to have my mind glued onto the crashed ship and not the possible pilot INSIDE OF IT this whole time.

How the FUCK did I forget?-

The leaves nearby rustled more. Something tiny was within. Definitely not a bug. The LAST thing it would be is a BUG.

My knees wobbled.  
>It was him.<br>Very faintly, a tiny frame hidden under the flora, there he was.

My legs collapsed from under me. My arms curled to my chest and my shins skid forward in attempts to get closer.  
>He was moving. Gently and carefully, but he was. The leaves had hopefully provided a safe landing for him. Sadly I couldn't say the same for the ship-<p>

...  
><em>...Olimar.<em>

I mouthed the name, my teeth clenched with every syllable. Shivering, I leaned down a bit, and only then did I hear an incredibly faint noise. I was probably about 3 feet away.  
>My ears betrayed me, but-<br>Was he- screaming?  
>No way.<br>In a bold move, I reached forward and lifted a leaf that covered half the area he was in.  
>Right there and then, I could see him fully, and what he was doing.<p>

[IMAGE LINK**1]

[Backyard, view from the door, quick sketch to show the impact site and possible ship part locations in relation to the crash.]

My heart was in my ears at this point.

_Blood._

He was bleeding. Wounded. INJURED-

I couldn't get a good look at him, my eyesight still blurred, but I did not care.  
>It looked like he was hanging on for his dear life on something metallic- one of the ship parts? Was he SERIOUSLY trying to haul that thing back to the defective vessel?<p>

He was hurting himself. He was obviously really scared. Who WOULDN'T be? I could make out a couple of cracks in his helmet and his overall frame was red with his own blood.

_WHATSHOULDIDO, WHATSHOULDIDO,_ my pathetic mind screamed at me, like it was controlling a broken puppet.  
>As i fathomed the possible actions, the little faint noise seemed to cease, and I SWEAR I saw his little head turn towards me. Oh no-<p>

A 5-foot 4 inch giant staring straight back at him shaking like a tree; I surely didn't think this one over.

His grip seemed to drop from the object and he just stared at me. I heard the faint noise again, but it wasn't constant- he cried out in fear.  
>I blinked and backed up a bit, but that didn't stop the inch-tall captain to try a valiant escape. He got up to one foot, but just feel back over, and tried to scuffle away pitifully.<br>_SHIT-_  
>I didn't stop my hands. They swiped away the debris around the poor guy and swooped under him, hastily lifting both him and the leaf he tried to scurry away on.<br>The look on his face- if only I could have seen it. He cried out again, and had a death grip on the edge of the leaf, as I crossed my legs and brought the load close to my chest.

He dared to turn, after a few moments of silence, and look at me again. He was much closer in my sight now; I could make out his facial features, and the tiny details on his suit (all dyed red).  
>His head dropped, and he stopped moving. I have never been so scared to hold something so small in my life.<br>He blacked out.

I couldn't of imagined the amount of panic and pain he had just experienced. My lips wobbled in disbelief at the whole situation; I still could not fathom it.  
>My brain jerked me up to a stand. I needed to act fast. Who knew just how injured he REALLY was?<p>

My other hand closed over the tiny alien, and my feet took me inside my house in a flash. Miraculously, I didn't trip on my way up 2 flights of stairs, or on my clumsy way to my room.

My desk appeared seemingly empty at this point, considering all the items that took the fall off of it. My hearing had returned- my breathing was erratic. I needed to calm down before I did something incredibly stupid.  
>My hands were bloodied- and disturbing to me enough that it wasn't mine. I pushed aside my chair and shakily lowered the pile of bloodied flesh and leaf down to the desk's surface, my eyes watering.<p>

_I hope you aren't dead. By GOD, I hope you're not dead._ My thoughts were a blur of panic and confusion, tangling up by the minute. I scowled at the possibility that I had just hurt him more than helped him.  
>Nonsense.<br>I grunted, jumping out my bedroom door to the bathroom directly beside it. Snatching a paper roll, I returned to my room shortly after, turning on my lamp to see everything better.  
>A small puddle of blood was forming under him. The bleeding won't stop. I looked up to the ceiling as if some kind of deity was awaiting my gaze and just PRAYED this would work.<p>

His body was so- small. I could see, now, the gashes that striped his abdomen. Once everything was all cleaned up, then I could get a good look at how different Olimar is from his...games.

I wonder if he knew about them.  
>The questions start to gather...<p>

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><p><em>continue?<em>


	4. Prologue III

*** DUE TO LACK OF FORMATTING IN THIS SITE, LINKS BELOW ARE PROVIDED TO THE PICTURES ORIGINALLY IN THE SCRIPT. To read the properly formatted version of this Part, see my profile. Whenever an ASTERISK is present, an image is to be inserted. Feel free to go to the said link to see the image originally inserted. Open up another tab to my profile to see the pictures correctly and accurately!**

* * *

>[ l]<br>Fan-fiction  
>First-person limited<br>Mixed Media  
>First Draft<p>Prologue Part 3<p>

C. Hopwood

This fan fiction was birthed from a dream and may appear surreal, unusual or nonsensical at many given points.  
>The views presented by the author's personification do not strictly represent the views that of the author herself. She does not own the rights to any video-game characters, deviants, or various media presented in this piece unless stated otherwise.<p>

* * *

><p>The little things- we never think about them until everything huge is pushed aside.<br>In this case, I only saw Olimar when I moved some leaves aside and gazed upon his writhing body.

Practical? Whoever knew it would become a physical thing? I certainly didn't. I wasn't ready for any of this.  
>How would I tell my friends? How would I keep it a secret?<p>

More interestingly,  
>what did HE think about all of this?<br>Does he know about us humans?  
>-Did he travel back in time?-<p>

Is he aware of the media surrounding him and the internet?

Some popular fiction accounts (deviantArt) of his are Ask-CaptOlimar and Captain0limar - all each awesomely pertaining to his personality and ethics.  
>His reaction to everything will be odd to see. I wonder if we're actually unknowing of things written about US in other alienmultidimensional worlds... ohGodIsoundhigh. That's just ridiculous.  
>I'm just gonna stop and- tell you what happened next.<p>

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><p>Q-Tips.<br>Toilet paper.  
>I never thought I'd use it to do such a thing. The strands I was peeling off were MICROSCOPIC. My bloody fingers didn't help the situation, even if they were dry- slipping their grip, sticking to my hands, ripping off more than I needed.<br>When was the last time I did such a thing?  
>Kindergarten?<br>Arts and crafts?  
>Paper mache?<br>I thought right away that anything like bandages would be too tight for him. I need to remember how delicate he might be... oh gosh why did this have to happen-

I took some of the strips between my thumb and index finger, trying to calm my grip- I was still shaky. My eyes stung with the threat of tears, but still jarred open wide from distress and fear.  
>I needed to focus.<p>

Picking up a Q-Tip, I took a deep breath. Once my hand was steady, I used the swab to push him gently- so he was at least laying on his back. So far so good... a few more pushes...  
>I got it.<br>I flipped the Q-Tip to it's other side and delicately dabbed the bloody areas- which seemed to be everywhere.  
>I cringed WAYY too many times, but it wasn't as bad when his suit started to appear less red than before. I knew I was doing well; hand still a bit shaky, but my concentration was intense.<br>I could see his tiny body rise and fall from small breaths he took.  
>This encouraged me; I knew he was alive. This, alone, was good news within all of this confusion.<p>

I just feared that I was hurting him. God, how much gentler I cleaned the wounds now that I thought of that.  
>Eventually, his torso was clear of any more blood. The gashes were clearly seen across his chest and miniscule ones dashing across his waist.<br>They still looked fresh-  
>That's where the strips came in.<p>

Equipped on my fingers, I gently enveloped his abdomen in them. Not too tight, but just enough to cover the exposed skin and keep it secure.

Now that I think about it...  
>His skin was exposed.<br>Exposed to- _oxygen._

Does that- affect him?  
>On my Pikmin binge, I dove deep into the physiology of Hocotatians- always theorizing of course, because nothing was ever expressed as canon in the games. All of it was always speculation or estimates.<br>Either way,  
>I've always wondered how toxic oxygen actually IS to them.<br>Considering they've always worn suits it's hard to tell.  
>My theory was that breathing it was the worst, only the minor things like skin exposure being minimum toxicity.<p>

To be safe, I did the little operation fast. Soon enough his frail body was wrapped tight with tissue.

My concern flicked to his helmet. Looking closely...  
>Just tiny cracks.<br>Considering that he's probably used to getting squished, smashed and thrown around, I'm surprised there's even a scratch on that bubbly thing.

...then again I have to remember that the Pikmin games weren't that into detail.

Just a miracle that no more damage was done... this could have been a whole lot worse.

...

...

My job as a field medic was done for now. My back was constantly bent in one way during the whole thing... just now it started to hurt.  
>My eyes could not help but travel around the unconscious Olimar; I could finally see the details on him, the tiny things I missed by just a gaze.<p>

I sighed. How could he sleep with such a bulbous helm on his head?  
>Does he even keep it on when he's in his ship?<p>

More questions. For God's sake-

I got up, and quickly looked around the room. I tapped my temples, which got a bit grimy from my dirty fingers, and finally laid my eyes upon a small, square box.  
>A ring box.<br>I don't know why I still keep those things around.  
>There's never anything in them, and probably the proper use of them was gone after I grew out of dress up as a child.<p>

I fetched it from my dresser, and opened it. The soft but slightly ripped cushion was still inside of it, and easily removable.

...I'm doing all of these things without any thought as to why this is happening.

I'll keep that mindset for now. I seem to be getting more done right now than if I were to mull over it. There was no use now.

Back at my desk, I set down the box beside him.

I swear I just saw him twitch-  
>If he wakes up he's going to be SO SCARED. I can't imagine how scarred he would be!<p>

In quick action again, I carefully slid a tissue under his body and lifted it.  
>I was too scared to do it with my bare fingers in case I put too much pressure on him. The consequences of doing such a thing...<br>Nothing has hit me as reality yet.  
>This is ridiculous.<br>A vivid dream. Definitely. There's no way this just happened. Any of it.

The tissue-lift successfully placed him on the ring box's odd cushion. He seemed to JUST fit, the antennae off his helmet curling underneath the box's lid automatically. Strange...

I just realized how calm I seemed to be now. I sighed deeply, seeing as the more urgent things were done with.

Olimar...

At the same time, I didn't want this to happen, and yet I did.  
>But do I even know if it was real?<br>After leaning inward and scanning him with my eyes one more time, I took a deep breath. I finally got a very, VERY good look at him.

To my surprise, not much was different.

His eyes were the same dot-like, beady shape, smaller than before due to them being closed.

Unlike the games his skin was more toned- red in the cheeks, small colourings near the temples and forehead...

His nose was still big. Nuff said.

His mouth was much more visible, lips and all. Still incredibly tiny, his jaw was actually hanging open a little bit.  
>Poor guy...is that his tongue? Ohmygosh. Cute. Just hope he doesn't drool in his sleep.<p>

His hair... well, this was a bit new. Of course, the 3-strokes-of-hair would assume to be a... 'cartoony' addition to him in the games. I guess I was right; instead, it seems like a small clump, with 3 'curled' strokes.

His suit... it's still a pale reddish colour. If I were to thoroughly clean it, I'll have to wait... after seeing some evidence from Pikmin 3, I guess it's safe after all to use water on him. But for now...

...I need to fix his ship. If anything- if he wants to be comfortable and everything, he'll need it.

Oh my God- I just hope it's silly little technology works like it does in the first game. If not...

...I hope he isn't uncomfortable with duct tape and super glue.

_continue?_


	5. Prologue IV Final

Special thanks to the generous followers and reviewers for reading this work. 3 Just a warning, this is the last part that I have actually completed, and future parts may take some time to publish. I'll get my butt in gear though, so no worries! 8-10 day gaps are what I'm aiming for.

*** DUE TO LACK OF FORMATTING IN THIS SITE, LINKS BELOW ARE PROVIDED TO THE PICTURES ORIGINALLY IN THE SCRIPT. To read the properly formatted version of this Part, see my profile. Whenever an ASTERISK is present, an image is to be inserted. Feel free to go to the said link to see the image originally inserted. Open up another tab to my profile to see the pictures correctly and accurately!**

Lots of pictures in this part. Watch carefully!

* * *

>[ l]<br>Fan-fiction  
>First-person limited<br>Mixed Media  
>First Draft<p>Prologue Part 4<p>

C. Hopwood

This fan fiction was birthed from a dream and may appear surreal, unusual or nonsensical at many given points.  
>The views presented by the author's personification do not strictly represent the views that of the author herself. She does not own the rights to any video-game characters, deviants, or various media presented in this piece unless stated otherwise.<p>

* * *

><p>Sometimes I ask myself why things can't be real.<br>Doesn't everyone?

Thing is, once we do, karma sneaks up on us then whispers seductively "Wish granted you greedy bitch", and then reality makes sure its in the worst way possible.

Couldn't He have arrived in a much more pleasant fashion?  
>Landed in a pile of cushions conveniently piled ontop my roof; Even in Pikmin 2 he suffered much less pain in the beginning of the game. Just a slight crash handled by that stupid-ass cocky tin can they called an Artificial Asshole Intelligence for a ship.<p>

Fuck that ship. Thank God it's dead now.

...but I guess, in the end, his entrance could have been much worse. Now I'm sending a love letter back to Karma for that. You sneaky bastard.

* * *

><p>I took a deep breath before turning from the delicate sight on my desk. Good God.<br>Did this all just happen?  
>I blinked as I realized I was standing there with my eyes stained red for being open for much too long. I needed to focus.<p>

_The ship. Gogogo._

I didn't consider it until now; DID ANYONE HEAR ALL OF THAT? Seriously, just peace and quiet then CRASH BOOM WADDA-BING-BANG ALIEN SPACESHIP. I felt a silent scream leave me as my feet dabbled down my staircase faster than a mad hive of bees. God so help me I needed to act FAST-

I marched out my back door with another hoarse breath leaving me, still stunned about the whole situation. What the Hell are you supposed to do in a time like this? What are the consequences of being completely dumbfounded in probably the most important part of your life?!  
>Well, first of all, I needed to calm my tits. I felt myself swoon as I stepped into my backyard, tiny billows of smoke coming out of patches of grass everywhere. My eyes blurred. What if I didn't snatch every part? His ship always seemed so prone to falling apart like fucking LEGO. If anything, I wanted to get back inside as fast as I could and get everything BACK TO NORMAL.<br>I'm getting angry now. Goddamn it Caitlin, just get over there and-

"HEY!"  
>A familiar voice blared its mockingly intimidating tone from next door.<p>

_OH GOD NO._

My neighbors.

My jaw clenched tightly shut as my body moved in what felt like a blur, scurrying over to the wreckage that caused so much sound and yet- surprisingly- didn't cause much of a mess.  
>Unless you count a small mound of dirt and small leftover smoke billows as something out of the ordinary- Scattered with small parts similar to that of a dismantled Transformer from a lawn mower.<p>

NOT GOOD.  
>As grass crinkled in the backyard next door, my arms flailed to and fro, grabbing at every mechanical part I could see or feel. I disguised a cough into my arm as leftover smoke tickled my -stained pants peeled from the ground RIGHT as my nextdoor neighbor, Larry, chimed his familiar call again.<p>

"What was THAT?" he laughed heartily, arms on the fence.  
><em>Huh- is he not concerned. Frightened. What.<em> I stood frozen, dirt caking my fingers and my pockets hanging heavy from all of the ship parts I managed to collect. Did I get them all? Did I even bother to look around before-

"Your hair is looking great today!" he commented and burst out laughing again with a laugh of his knee. I blinked.  
>I didn't realize how much of a mess I was myself. I slowly lifted a brown-coated hand up to my forehead and flicked away a huge lock of clumped and sweaty locks.<br>I couldn't help but smile, realizing how silly everything was right now.

"...Yeah. You can say that again!" I cheerily replied; of course he was never serious or threatening on purpose. He loved poking fun at everyone.  
>I opened the palm that flicked my hair away and found a singed rock that my nails had caught in the scavenging.<br>_Idea._

"Did you hear that earlier?" I yelled over the fence, keeping my eyes on the rock. He piped up. "Yeah; just a BANG! Then nothing more. Everything alright?"  
>I bit my lip and held out my hand.<br>"I saw something fall from the sky," I laughed nervously, gesturing to the rock. "A friggin meteorite? How often does that happen, Larry?"  
>He raised an eyebrow, leaning over the fence to get a closer look. "Just a rock? HAH!" he started walking back to his house, saying, "Thought it was something worse! See ya."<p>

I felt my throat wobble in disbelief. Did that really convince him? Or was the sound and cosmetics of this whole thing just not a big deal after all? I looked behind me and then realized that, after picking up most of the ship pieces, nothing really seemed to be amiss; only dirt and slightly blackened leaves.  
>Was it not that loud? Was I overreacting?<br>My breath slowed and I blinked.

_Holy fuck. Too much luck._

_Too much._

After regaining my bearings, I shook off some dirt from- everywhere, walking into a gallop back to the house. I kicked off my shoes this time, dirt sent everywhere but of course disregarding it, and took the time to fetch a couple of...'tools' before going upstairs once again.

This time, I stopped near my doorway, hesitant.  
><em>What if he's awake.<em>

The horror that would await him. The sun was mostly set, and I could feel the welt of several misquito bites lining my ankles. With a furrow of my brow, I slowly peaked in; only to see the same sight. No difference whatsoever.

_Goddamn it Caitlin. Just hurry the Hell up,_ I scorned, bumbling over to pile the collection of scrap and parts onto my bed. My desk was occupied by Him.

Unscathed. I couldn't believe it. Somehow I had prevented any suspiscion of an interdimensional fictional alien being that is being hospitalized within my household.

...Yeah I'm definitely dreaming. This is total nonsense.  
>I should just drop everything and bury myself under my deauvet. That is ALL I want to do right now.<p>

I gazed at the grimy blankets I lay all of the pieces on.

...Well, I've gotten this far.

_Why should I stop?_

I winced and closed my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose harshly. Face beat red, I grinded my teeth, then released all of the tension with a deep sigh.

With one last look to Olimar and his frail visage, I got to work.

That was more than enough to convince me.

* * *

><p>Time: 9:00pm<p>

After carefully analyzing each piece and gluing debris from each one together, I don't think I've missed any mandatory ones. The basic frame of the ship was scarcely there, much like it first was in the first game. All I needed to do now was figure out how it could work it's magic...if it was possible. _Hopefully._

I frantically googled the damned part list from the first game, multiple references, and bookmarked tonnes of pages relating to each part function and location. Multiple tabs of YouTube videos blared their playthroughs of Pikmin 1 and are all carefully paused at part-acquiring cut scenes to see how they are inserted. Many sketches were scribbled on SAI of the many parts and labelled diagrams with messy handwriting.  
>My computer chugged its fans loudly, but could handle much more than what I was putting it up against. <p>

[*IMAGE#1]

[Thorough analyzation of each and every part on the ship, minus every gear and screw that seemingly (and sadly realistically) flew out during impact]

[*IMAGE#2]

[Screenshot taken from one of many walkthroughs showing the Dolphin before takeoff, approx. 5 parts or less]

[*IMAGE#3]

[What the end result is supposed to look like. FUCK!]

I lined up the parts beside the half of the frame that was recovered, and winced. I could barely even tell it was the ship's skeleton, less even the ship itself. Wasting no time, I stood it upright, and dabbled my fingers over the parts until I reached the engine.

I gently lifted it. This was the one that Olimar was clinging onto. Some of the blood, dried now, still blackened the corners.

_...Work. Or I will go insane._

Looking extremely silly, all I did was hold the engine in front of it. There was no hint of a tractor beam, no glowing circle nudging at a possible retrieving spot, nothing. I was taking a huge chance here.

I held my breath.

..

...

...Nothing.  
>I sighed loudly in frustration regardless of the noise and clenched my other fist, letting the Dolphin's skeleton fall sideways to my bed-sheets.<p>

Why did I think that would work? Why did I honestly think that such a silly contraption would defy physics and work against the border of this reality?

I buried my face into a pillow to my side, my body halfway sitting up and laying down.

"This is stupid. All of it. I can't apply glue and tape to fix this fucking problem."

I lifted my head slowly and looked sombrely at the most mandatory ship part, knowing it would be impossible to install. I set it gently down next to the downed Dolphin exterior, hope dropping immediately. Along with my head. Onto my pillow. With my body.

_Stupid stupid stupid stupid-_ **BWOOPPP-P-P-P-P-POWWOOW-PPPP**

WHAT.

How improbable it was to type an onomatopoeia for both the noise I heard and my reaction to it. A series of garbles thrust me up from my bed, knocking off some of the parts to the floor and causing a ruckus, but not before my eyes stamped onto the phenomena I was witnessing at that moment.

_**WHAT.**_

The fucking tune that played whenever you acquire a part blared inside my head like all hell broke loose in my instincts.  
>I just witnessed<br>the damned ship  
>swallow up<br>that engine whole,  
>glowing tractor beam lights and all,<br>and flip on its head,  
>a twirl of supernatural shit blasting outwards<br>before revealing the engine  
>nicely tucked inside of it<br>revving up and spinning  
>like <em>brand FUCKING NEW<em>

-

I shouldn't of just yelped. I keep forgetting about the weak and probably sensitive patient bundled up on my desk.

"_ITWORKS_" I sharply whispered in happiness.

_" -"_ I scrambled onto my knees, taking all the knocked off pieces and basically jamming them into the Dolphin's face, all ending up with the ever-so-satisfying sound of **BWWOWOOWOWOWOWPWPPWWOPPWPWPPPPPP** and sparkles flying to and fro.

_2, 3, 4..._

The Dolphin gladly took each and every one of its vital organs back, all parts installing themselves much like I had celebrated playing the first game so long ago. _12, 13, 14..._

_...27, 28, 29..._  
>I couldn't help but let out some happy laughter, eyes stinging from all that had happened thus far; until my hands couldn't feel any other parts on my bed.<p>

I blinked.

Was that it?

I stopped, shutting my jaw tightly. I looked down at the completed Dolphin, though despite its parts being returned to it, lots of gears and screw-like entities were missing from its hull, so it looked pretty much like it did dismantled, just less scorched.

...No problem. That's where my duct tape, screw driver and super glue came in. I grinned, and set myself up for another couple hours of Fix-It-Caitlin-

_"Errp-"_

I JUMPED.  
>I.<br>JUMPED. Within all of the excitement, my room was ALWAYS dead silent, and THAT scared me shitless. A grim thought crossed my mind-

_...Oli?!_

I whipped my head around and my vision blurred. He was obviously making that noise.  
>WHY.<br>WHY WAS HE MAKING THAT NOISE.  
>I had to listen closer.<p>

I kept on forgetting how delicate the situation really was; I have a possibly dying, innocent being of my utmost importance and favour writhing in pain wrapped in tissue paper inside a damn ring box.  
>HOW SILLY THAT SOUNDED? My stomach threw itself out the window. I HAVE A JOB TO DO.<p>

Taking a large, unsteady breath, I stepped off my bed and crept over to my desk, heart thumping in my ears.

_"Errp-ernng-"_

It was faint. But definitely him. My brow heightened as I sat down in my computer chair, leaning back but at the same time trying to get a good look at him.

He was squirming around, half awake. My brain flushed out all hope and silly thoughts and my mood crashed into the same confused, serious, and sorrowful mindset from earlier.

His tiny body... Oh my GOD. Why was he trying to move?!

_He was in pain._

My mind rushed into a frenzy of panic.  
><em>Should I help him<br>Ohmygodohmygodohmygod  
>Don'tdoathinggobacktonormalGODNO<br>_

Flipping my hands around squeamishly, one of my hands shot forward anyway and hovered over the ring box.  
>Could he see me?<br>_"Errrr-"_  
>Were his eyes open?<br>_"Errngg-emhh-"_  
>Was he aware enough to see the beat-faced giant once again with an intimidating hand out to get him once again?<p>

My hand slowly approached his writhing frame in a pinching stance; maybe I could make it stop? The risk was ridiculously nerve-wracking. What if I squish him? What if the bleeding starts again-

_"Er-p."_

He stopped. With that small whimper, he stopped his squirming. His body fell still with the faint breathing he sported before, his head curled more inward to his torso in pity.

...my fingers were millimetres away.

Falling back, my hands tucked in my sides, my eyes were stained red with the anxiety that was caused.  
>They watered and let loose; but did not blink. I stood, dumbfounded, at how close I was to possibly harming him. He stopped at the riskiest time he could ever in this encounter.<p>

..I felt dizzy. I could have HURT him.

Who's to say I haven't already? I was a tad reckless when bringing him inside for hospitality.

But still...

...That was it for me tonight. I plopped onto my bed again, ripping my teary gaze away from him, and just stared, deadpan, straight ahead, mind blank.

_Sleep._

knocking off the Dolphin from my bed without notice, I slammed my room's light off and my head hit the pillow.

_This is not real._

_Just a dream._

_Wake up._

_WAKE UP._

_

_continue?_


	6. Chapter 1

Thank you all for your continued support! This part is a tad longer since we're moving onto actual chapters now. Apologies in advance for any more holdups in the future, as from this point on this is raw reading material, and not prepared beforehand!  
>No images in this one. No worries!<p>

* * *

>[ l]<br>Fan-fiction  
>First-person limited<br>Mixed Media  
>First Draft<p>Chapter 1<p>

C. Hopwood

This fan fiction was birthed from a dream and may appear surreal, unusual or nonsensical at many given points.  
>The views presented by the author's personification do not strictly represent the views that of the author herself. She does not own the rights to any video-game characters, deviants, or various media presented in this piece unless stated otherwise.<p>

* * *

><p>Sleep.<p>

It's probably the greatest thing in the world RIGHT next to the internet. Not only does it grant you endless rest, redemption and peace, but it also gives you the opportunity to live- another life. A dream. At first it can be controlled and you can create your own fantasies, your wishes all coming true or worries and issues coming to a satisfying close-  
>But of course then there's the actual dream, where what you've created takes an incomprehensible and surreal turn, where you have limited control and it takes over itself. Your brain betrays you.<br>Bittersweet?

Sometimes, I just want to stay asleep. I want to escape everything life limits me to and live out the adventure and fun that awaits me every night after I lose consciousness. I want to keep reliving what I could not in real life.

...

...but now I just want to wake up. 

* * *

><p>10am<p>

Yourge457ner #ationma65^$7hin85758eyo#$%$ ungwhipsnai76lsortofbuck()*&etrynockr3456vonus

[Surreal. Surreal. Pretty close to what I hear in my sleep.]

My eyes clenched tightly before slowly opening, the sunlight of morning pouring from my open blinds.

"Jesus..."

I grunted and groaned, rolling about in my sky blue sheets, darkened brown hair clinging to everything with static electricity. I closed my eyes again and daydreampt for a bit to get used to my real surroundings once again.

See?  
>Not real.<p>

To be honest, that was a pretty sick-ass dream. It's not very often that I'm stuck in subconsciousness with a rescue mission of one of my favourite video-game characters. Some parts were silly, others unrealistic, and others even realistic as all hell, feel-to-feel awesome.

I was still buzzed from being asleep. I usually lay my head at around 12-1am and wake up at the same likewise time the next day, 12 hours later. It felt successful; even if I couldn't remember the time I fell asleep the night before.

Puffing a blast of air I blew my hair from my face. My hands crinkled around the bedsheets and my eyes were pretty crusty. Taking a hand, I rubbed them hard to get the mucky stuff out from the sides-

...Woah. My hand didn't smell that good. What did I do-?

_Don't think about it. Probably something stupid you did in your dream. Disgusting._

I shrugged and slowly sat upwards, eyes slowly flittering open. I felt my clothes rustle against the duvet; I don't usually wear any.

Hmm? Was I _drunk_ or something?  
>I shook my head and heard a couple of 'tat' and 'dat's of dirt flying from my horse mane.<p>

What the HELL?

It was dirty. MESSED. Tangled and clumped in many spots.

I shut my eyes again.

_Not REAL...?_

I shook my head in denial. IMPOSSIBLE. NO.

It's Saturday. My mother's out at her boyfriend's house, my sister god-knows-where.  
>Is it early? It isn't exactly that bright out.<p>

Oh, look! My bed's scattered with dirt!  
>Look! My floor is a pig's pen!<br>Look! Blood caked under my fingernails and shirt!  
>Look! A screwdriver! Wonder why that's up here!<br>My eyes are pretty dry! What a coincidence!...

...

Now I'm scared.

I dove back into my sheets and threw my huge blanket over my head.

"Bullshit. Bullllshiiiitttttt..." I hummed in a lovely tune to myself, bubbling drool trickling in my mouth's corners.

"No Way. No Way. No Way. No Way."

It was inevitable. I've gone crazy. There's no goddamn way.

...Fuck my curiosity. I sat upwards again, peeling my blanket off me.

On a count of 3, I blasted my eyes open wide, aimed at my desk.

...

**...He was staring. _RIGHT. AT. ME._**

IS THIS THE REAL LIFE?  
>Bohemian Rhapsody mocked me in my head.<p>

Olimar. He was awake all right. Oh yes. He was right there, leaning off the edge of my desk, his small but incredibly piercing stare lodged into me and my soul. His eyes were the widest I have ever seen him do, even in the games. Pupils, whites and all.

It seemed like hours, but was only a few seconds, that we held the awkward and incredibly intense staring contest. My mind dare not utter a single thought.

Eventually, Olimar himself broke the stare, his eyes shrinking a tad but still startled in that whites-showing fashion. His weakened body scurried up to a stand, slowly, and he leant against a mug I had on the desk's breathed harshly.

I remember when I was younger; I used to replay the Pikmin 2 cutscenes over and over again to see his eyes do that; hilarious, sad and unique all at the same time.

DID I EXPECT THE SAME THING STARING ME IN THE FACE 3 FEET AWAY? **NO!**

_NOT REAL. NOT REAL. NOT REAL._ My mind started up again. What the Hell did HE think? I just then realized how unreal this must seem to him.  
>How did I get here, he may think? What the bloody FUCK is that humongous being coming to kill me, he may ask?<p>

Oh GOD what if he thought this whole time, I was to kill him? What if he thinks I'm holding him hostage?

I don't want him to recap his fate in Pikmin 3. Fucking HORRIBLE. If he were to relive that again-

He opened his mouth, as if he was going to speak. Unblinking, eyes wide still, his tiny jaw shut again. Was he going to say something? Anything? Or was he too stunned, and getting one good hard look at what had taken him in the night before?

I couldn't help but let my mouth open in a crooked grimace. I cowered back and rolled off my bed, looking up at him from my floor from further back; I looked like a monster myself at this point, considering how much of a mess I got myself into.  
>The tiny tremor from my roll made him lose his balance, and his feet skipped from under him, body sliding down the side of the mug.<p>

_SHIT_ I reminded myself, forgetting his size. That was probably the equivalent of a small earthquake to him. His eyes closed shut as he held his torso, red bandages still tightly packed onto him- noticingly tighter now?  
>He was obviously still in pain.<p>

My heart broke and melted at the same time. Holding my hands to my mouth in slight shock, I saw his tiny frame get back up again; only, this time, he skittered behind the mug quickly, obviously incredibly scared.  
>The biggest creature he's ever seen is not even the size of my pet cat. I must be scream-worthy.<p>

I let out a sustained breath. I didn't realize how long I was holding it, my lungs kicking me in detest for my actions.

I got on my knees and snuck forward a bit, sliding instead of lifting any limbs. At the desk, my nose touching its front, I gazed around his area that I set up so hastily.

It turns out he might have been up longer than I thought. Small things such as hair elastics, fluff and pieces of my art eraser were scattered in different spots. Little red and brown bootprints dotted the perimeter; some splotches of blood dribbled off of the ring box.

He's probably tired, hungry, thirsty, depressed; who knows- he probably even needs to relieve himself. (That subject is Taboo in video games! Bathrooms don't exist!)

I grunted. I looked to my right and saw him trying his best to cower away, circling the mug as I looked around his 'area'. My eyes expressed concern, but his continued stare expressed fright, confusion and mourning. He was basically panting this whole time, his helmet fogging up more and more as he wasted his energy.

He obviously wasn't that frightened when I was asleep. He probably felt-

-_safe._

That hurt me. I know we're both right now, probably blaming every scape-goat known to mankind for the actions done this past day, but the thought of me being a danger to him-

...This had to change.

I had a curious thought. I backed up, pretending to retreat back to bed, and just sat there, waiting for him to come out. After a few minutes, with no sign of him, I furrowed my brow.  
><em>Stubborn,<em> I thought and shook my head, gently rolling to the floor this time.  
>I slid back up to the desk and checked behind the mug.<br>He was...there. Yep. He was still there, thinking he's hidden, but obviously not as tense as before. He was sitting down, head bobbing as he panted, obviously too weak to walk around. He just witnessed a gigantic sentient being stir out of its slumber, awaken, approach, and stalk him with the oddest stare he'd ever witness.

What would humans look like to other races?...

...Probably really ugly.

That made me really self-conscious at that point. Feeling myself blush, I took my eyes off of Him and backed off, sitting on my knees. I tapped my hip as to what I should try next; before he does something I don't want him to.

Pretty smart though; when looking around at his bandage work, they seemed like all-new wrappings, and I did notice my roll of tissue paper having microscopic rips on its sides.  
>I should've expected such a thing though; he's a veteran after all. If anything he first learned his lesson when he crashed on this exact planet in the first game.<p>

I placed my palms on the ground- one of them anyway.  
>My other palm felt a metallic object.<p>

..Ah, of course!

Ideas blasted into my head as I held up Olimar's very own S.S. Dolphin; I had knocked it off unknowingly the night before. It weighed probably 3-4 lbs. My throat bobbed and my eyes flickered to the desk...

Now I'm VERY curious.

I immediately placed it on the desk, next to the ringbox. It leant awkwardly to the side a bit, but re-aligned itself, because the thing did have some automatic functions to it after all.

Would he come out now?

I sat back and waited, waited, waited... no dice. Was he still back there? I probably waited around 10 minutes before asking this. I got on my knees again and checked behind the mug.

..

He was out.

_FUCK-_ I flipped about, scratching at my face nervously before gently, GENTLY lifting the mug up to let his body slide down and rest on the desk's surface.

_"Ermp-"_ a tiny grunt uttered from him as his helmet clunked with the ground. My heart jumped on the inside.  
>Whenever he would make a sound or talk in any of the games, it was always a gem to hear, because he was known to be a very quiet, contemplative and determined silent protagonist. Pikmin 3 REALLY threw me off there; ruining a couple of childhood fantasies, but replacing them with...oddly, a more unique one.<p>

His voice was incredibly quiet here, but still kept its bassy, low pitch. Whenever he babbled like this, it REALLY stood out to me. My house, being a quiet one, was the perfect trap for even the tiniest of voices to penetrate the air; and sadly I didn't expect it to be out of pain.

Having calmed down considerably, I couldn't help but stare down at the Captain's helpless body and see the moving, smaller details I missed from the nightlight hours ago.

He was so small.  
>It's quite obvious. Only an inch in height. That's including his helmet and such, even.<p>

..But I've always seen much more than that.  
>..To see it in the flesh? Real, alive, in front of my eyes, someone I've been guilty for fantasizing and dreaming about for so long?<br>No matter in pain, happiness or even fear;

...He's beautiful. 

* * *

><p>12pm<p>

I had gained my bearings, having moved Olimar gently back to the ringbox and cleaned up his area a bit. Every now and then I was finding odd bits and pieces of things he was finding on my desk in the oddest places and crevices. Was he going about scavenging for food? Or maybe, building a 'camp site' of sorts for himself?  
>That thought made my brow furrow as I washed my clumped hair in the shower.<br>Making it... _comfortable,_ for himself? I do admit my room is pretty cozy; you can't go wrong with the most heated room in the house.

Jesus Christ, probably one of the most relieving showers I've ever taken. I had finally urged myself to get away from the scene knowing he should be all set. If he were to wake up, I had placed a container of water near the Dolphin, set up some 'carpet' for him everywhere, and even new 'strips' for his wounds.

I won't take any risks for his food just yet. I'm still going to refer back to the Pikmin 2 logs in order to clarify it.  
>The moment I give him something he'll die from is the moment I die as well.<p>

How literally?  
>Jeez. I need to stop showering.<p>

As predicted, I stepped out and prepped up, feeling much better than yesterday.  
>It was an intense day for the both of us; Olimar's end probably being the worst.<p>

But the fear still lives in me. The confusion; the goddamned THOUGHT of him being real. I just didn't... think about it that much now.  
>But it's still there.<p>

Moving to my room, I had gotten dressed quickly, throwing my towel away. I blabbered my lips before plopping down on my new bedsheets, in which I replaced pretty quickly earlier.

_FRESH!_

My rest didn't last long.

_Ting. Ting. Ting. Ting._

-Huh?

Sitting up once again, I never thought I'd ever catch a break. I wiped my eyes and flipped my wet hair back to see properly.

He was up again. I tilted my head curiously, moving a bit closer. Not to the point where he'd become frightened once again; he's seen enough shit to tell at least 200 stories at a campfire.

From afar, I could see that he was holding a rock from the debris from earlier; where did he find that? I thought I had cleaned the place up.  
>Apparently not. He was using the said rock to bang against the side of the mug that was still beside the desk.<p>

Did he want my attention?

His eyes were still widened at the sight of me; still not used to my visage or movement. I'd be scared shitless too if i didn't know what a gigantic alien being was going to do to me.

I held my breath once again and sat attentively as he shook in fear, but calmed a bit as he saw I wasn't going to do anything.  
>He still showed fright. He backed up a bit as I got closer, but didn't flee this time.<p>

In a small motion, he lifted his arm, his eyes still locked on me. He pointed his index finger to the left; pointing to...The Dolphin.

I looked over, then looked back at him.  
>Should I speak?<br>What am I supposed to expect?

Olimar jabbed his arm repeatedly to the left to motion to his ship- again and again and again. He backed up a bit in anxiety.

I looked over in confusion, then back to him. I shrugged and he jumped, startled.

_Dammit Caitlin. Stahp._  
>I blinked, trying to figure out a way to word this.<br>That's the thing. I CAN'T word it.

...I lifted a hand and pointed my index finger at the Dolphin, and he froze, pulling his arm back and nodding vigorously.

..Nodding. Pointing. Something's established.

I slowly started to nod also, and he stopped nodding himself, tilting his head slowly.

Without warning, he scurried over to his ship, and stood in front of it. He lifted a small hand and felt its hull gently, then looked over his shoulder.  
>His eyes weren't widened now. He looked relieved and yet shuddered on the spot. His brow was curled into that of nervousness, but also of...gratefulness?<p>

I couldn't breathe. He turned towards me once more, shivering like a leaf, but-

...he bowed.

He bowed his thanks and respect.

I felt a dumb smile crawl up on my fa-

-SLAM-

The front door downstairs thumped loudly and obnoxiously, and the silly repetitiveness of a door bell echoing through the house. My eyes burst open and the dumb grimace turned into a toothy frown, jumping up to a stand- and before I knew it I was running downstairs.

_SHIT. SHIT. WHO IS THAT. SHIT-_

Almost tripping on the last stair, I rushed in a panic to the door and paused- cautiously looking through the blinds to see who it actually was.  
>I hated doing that. I just knew that whenever I did, the person would see me, and grow a stupid smile on their face knowing I was home, and the door would be opened.<br>Not this time. The constant doorbell rings faded and I squinted; seeing the tall frame of a familiar neighbor standing on the porch.

Fred?

I wasn't quite acquainted with the man or his family. It's not that they were bad people, it's just- I'm a shy little fucker. I know I can screw up a conversation only because I think faster than I talk, saying 'goodnight' instead of 'hello how are you'.  
>Nevertheless, I was relieved- but still a tad aggravated. Why such the rush? What could possibly be so wrong? I swore I covered up my tracks yesterday.<p>

With a deep breath and turn of the door knob, I led the front door open ajar, letting Fred notice and give a giddy smile.

"Oh, hello!" I would fake the tone, grinning with what I hoped was a good poker face for this situation. He smiled back.

"Hey-uh, there's something you might want to see," he said, straight to the point. I was confused, but a tingle of warning buzzed in the back of my head. "Oh?" I said with a furrow of my brow, slipping my shoes on and going down the steps with him.

"Did you ever happen to see this?" he would say as we walked to the side of my house, pointing upwards.

_WHAT._ what could possibly be up the-

...A huge, black and ashened scrape soared down the side of my house near my window. Whatever it was- I assumed it was the Dolphin's crash course- it seemed to ALMOST catch my window and break into my room upstairs. My eyes widened at that thought, and I slowly backed up, eyes still locked on the mark.

"Sweet Jesus," I said quietly, and Fred scratched the back of his head.  
>"Don't know what it is either. Still looks fresh, too!" he looked to me. "But gladly I think it's just some kind of soot. We can easily wash it off." I nodded, slowly, not taking my eyes off of the supposed large ash mark the Dolphin left behind. I didn't say a word.<p>

"I have a power wash. With a ladder I can get the stuff off for you." he continued, "If you hear a hose, that's me. Just thought I'd let you know!"

I nodded and furrowed my brow again, looking at him gratefully. "That's b-be awesome. Thanks." I whispered, "Worth a shot."

Fred clapped his hands together and rubbed them as he headed back to his house, which was to the left of ours. "T-thanks," I muttered again, but turning to him finally, he was too far away to hear. My throat bobbed and I stood idle, staring into the distance.  
>...That was too fortunate. Almost witchcraft. I winced at the thought of anything being revealed if I was unlucky enough.<br>I can't get my hopes up though. I absolutely SUCK at keeping something from someone. I need to be extra careful with this one; even with my worst pokerface on, I can't let Olimar fall to danger. How anyone would react to this was still a mystery to me...

Reminds me of when I was younger, where I believed that wishing for something other than money from the tooth fairy would actually work. It was silly. Around the ages of 7-9 I would've prayed, prayed and prayed madly as I slipped a tooth under my pillow- prayed for something like a Pikmin to appear instead of currency.  
>I still laughed about those days- but I'm not sure if it's so funny now. It just...doesn't seem... that amusing now.<br>Considering I have the next best alien taking refuge on my IKEA desk.  
>What made me think the most about it, though, was the fact that the same ring box he's rested in had also been the one I used for my loose teeth.<p>

...Is this a miracle? Even if it required a few injuries to work?  
>Thoughts start to gather as I ponder if things will get worse or better...<p>

Back inside, I made my way upstairs again, scratching the back of my head. I wasn't outside for very long; how typical. I snorted to myself, remembering my lack of sunshine. Expect nothing less from this young internet blogger.

...That was something my sister didn't agree with.

"Hey Caitlin!" I hear a silly voice echoing from the top floor. Frozen on the platform ongoing upstairs, I would stifle a few curses. HOW COULD I FORGET.

Speak of the devil. Courtney. Older sister. Menace to my privacy.  
>If she touched anything, I swear-<p>

"YEAH-" I respond with the same silly voice, rounding the corner and seeing her at the top.  
>She sported some shorts and sunglasses; I was taking a wild guess and saying she was going to head out somewhere. I screamed and begged with a YES internally as we held a stare.<p>

Flipping to her normal voice, she spoke to me as I headed up the last steps...  
>Was my door open?-<p>

"Who was that?" she asked. My mind freaked, switching from the obvious answer to Olimar. Back and forth. My tongue stuttered and I started to shake.

"Well?" she angrily repeated, then I realized that I was just outside. My brain calmed its freezing, shaking mess and scooped reality back up in its clutches.  
>I sighed. That was ridiculous. Why would she ask who Olimar was. She probably didn't even peek into my room-<p>

GOD I HOPE SHE WASN'T ABOUT TO. IT WAS WIDE OPEN. My eyes jittered in sudden angst and I managed to blurt out "FRED" before skipping past her and in front of the entrance to my room.

She stood silent for a couple of held seconds. "...Okay? That wasn't hard, was it?" she said in the condescending tone I was used to. To my edginess, she craned her neck to try and see into my room and raised her brow, gently shrugging off the notion.  
>To be honest, I was more relieved at that moment than irritated.<br>As predicted, she started to head downstairs.  
>Was she here the whole time this day? She must have slept longer than me. My eyes rested their anxious shaking.<br>"He's just checking in on us- because, you know- mom's gone for now and all," I quivered as her frame disappeared around the bend.  
>"That's weird."<p>

...That's all she had to say. 'That's weird'. I scratched the side of my neck as I listened to the sound of her footsteps fade. I figured I'd stay put until I hear the familiar sound of the door shutting behind her.  
>Holding my breath, the front door slammed after a silly "GOODBYE" quacked from my sister. The sigh I let out was pretty harsh and well deserved. The way that scenario would have played out would have been much worse...<p>

...

...Back to business?

I cleared my throat, turning my body to finally retreat into my room.

What would Oli be doing without my presence? Considering he was wide awake when I had left so suddenly, I wond-

Huh?

With a simple gaze at the desk 'enclosure', I saw that he wasn't even there.

-Before I decided to panic, I let my eyes scan the desk one more time. Had he gone into hiding again?

I lowered myself and sat on my knees, scanning the desk closer, nose tip touching the surface. With a quick flick of my pupils to the side, I could see His tiny form.  
>Hiding. As I thankfully predicted. I couldn't of imagined if he were to fall off- good God no. The guy can hop down holes that are considered a foot or two deep, but the desk to my hardwood floor- would NOT FEEL THE SAME AS DIRT.<p>

Oli was taking cover behind my computer monitor. It was a miracle that the thing even fit on my desk at this point, along with my keyboard squished up against its front.

I thought to myself quickly. My huge face probably wasn't a good visual for him after hearing (and possibly seeing) a second human with their booming voices and ugly visage.

Back up. Back up. I stationed on my bed, my mattress creaking against the wooden base.  
>I wonder if he knew that sound? I lay silent, facing the desk in case of any movement from him.<p>

...

...

I'd say about 10 minutes passed before Olimar decided to return.  
>Little irregular footsteps padded out from behind the monitor, the tiny red bulb on his helmet bobbing as he skittered out to the open again. Upon rounding the corner and spotting me, he fell on his rear with eyes wide once again.<p>

..I guess he still isn't used to it. Or maybe he was startled that maybe Courtney was there instead of me?  
>It took him a few seconds before he stood up again, eyes slowly dissipating back to their dotty state and his breath releasing slowly.<p>

Recognition.

I wonder if he saw my older sibling at all- had she come peeking into my room after all? Probably snooping around to find a hair elastic or the electrical tape for the cords in her room- the rabbit chews those to pieces, after all.

At this point, I didn't really know what to do. If anything, I waited for him to move first, and go back to...whatever he was doing. The Dolphin was tilted on its side a tad- I wonder if that was because of me? I jumped off of my bed earlier and sped downstairs with trembles upon trembles of loud noises and wreckless running. THAT probably tipped the ship over.

I squinted as he started to move again- he was a lot slower this time. His walking was irregular with a skip in his step at some points...

Limping?

My throat held itself still.  
>He turned and faced me, his facials... turning somewhat red in appearance.<p>

Hmm? Did he need something? I skid closer on my bed.  
>He backed up immediately, shaking his head quickly.<p>

No?

I scratched my head. Sooner or later we needed to learn a better way of communication.

He lifted his hands and did an odd motion with them. It looked like he was trying to-

Shoo me off?

I wanted to confirm this. I started to get up off the bed and he stopped, shrugging.

...

I sat back down on the bed. Maybe he didn't want me to leave?  
>God this was so fucking confusing.<br>This can't be easy, can it?

He stood for a few tense moments before doing a different hand motion. This time, he twirled a hand with one finger pointing towards me.

_Turn around?_

Why would he want me to turn around?

I scanned the odd gesture for a few more seconds before sighing and turning my back to him. I tried to listen oh so closely to what he could possibly be doing now.

How the fuck could I hear anything. Really?

As the curious bugger I am, I turned my head by the slightest and pinned my eyes to the sides, to try and get a VERY small look.

...OH.

My face blasted into a reddish colour as I tore the gaze away.

...I guess the taboo of the video game world was possible in real life after all.

NOT DOING THAT AGAIN. NEXT TIME I'LL SET SOMETHING UP FOR HIM- PROPERLY.

FUCK REALISM. Characters need bathrooms after all. 

* * *

><p>continue?<p> 


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